


It is what it is - TLD alternate ending

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Bisexual John Watson, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Gay Sherlock, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 02:40:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9414353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sherlock admits the real reason why he doesn't text Irene back, and why he doesn't want a romantic entanglement with her. John also reveals something about himself.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I loved the hug scene in 'The Lying Detective' but here's how I really think the end of that episode went (and how it should have gone). 
> 
> Also can I just take a moment to hug the Sherlock fandom, because series 4 was rough as hell. Hang in there, because you're amazing, okay? 'Take your broken heart and turn it into art' as Carrie Fisher said. Go do great things, yeah?
> 
> Also I apologise for any errors in this, it's really late so I probably haven't proofread it to the best of my ability. I'll fix any errors if/when I find them. Hope you enjoy this.

‘Romantic entanglement -’

‘would complete you as a human being’ finished John, exasperated. ‘Text her, Sherlock. Do something while you have a ‘ chance. Because that chance doesn't last forever. Trust me Sherlock. It's gone before you know it’ He said, before breaking eye contact quickly to look down at his feet. ‘Before you know it.’ John wasn't quite sure why, but as he said that he suddenly had a flash of a memory, of a time when he was stood on a pavement looking up at a desperate man about to jump. The memory all too quickly left him before he could even think about it, and his eyes started to tear up - he blinked them away, quickly, and started to focus on his feet again.

‘...I can't.’ Sherlock barely whispered.

John's head snapped upwards at this, to look at Sherlock sitting resigned and tired in his chair opposite him. ‘Why not?’ He felt a flash of anger that he tried not to let slip in his words. ‘Christ, Sherlock, your phone is right there!’

‘No, not - I mean - I can't… have… I don't… want…’ Sherlock started to say, looking up at John, before trailing off. He coughed, regained his composure, and started over. The one thing that remained constant in all this was the softness in Sherlock’s eyes and the flutter in John's chest at the sight of it. ‘I don't want romantic entanglements… that is to say, not with her, The Woman. She was gay, for a start, but… I wouldn't, even if she was straight. Because…’

John waited for it. Waited for Sherlock to deny all feeling - to claim he was a “sociopath” like always, even when everyone close to Sherlock, especially John, knew different - you only had to see him around children like Rosie, or even dogs, to see the truth. And there was also… No.  
He tried to quell the flutter in his chest that almost felt like hope, even so.

‘...Because I'm gay, John.’ Sherlock finished, his eyes steady, still soft, but sparkling now. His face lit up in a small smile at the revelation, and John couldn't help but smile back at him. 

‘Ah.’ John said, after a brief pause. ‘There we are then.’

‘Indeed’. Sherlock countered ‘No need for you to worry about… that.’ He gestured towards his phone. 

‘I wasn't… no.’ John said, blushing slightly, and shuffling his feet. He moved to sit opposite Sherlock before Sherlock stood and moved close to him. 

‘The texts, John.’ He said, softly.

‘Hm?’ John replied, momentarily distracted by the closeness of his friend, who was now mere inches away from him.

‘You always counted them.’ Sherlock said, his eyes still shining - even in the soft light of the flat, John noticed.

‘Well, yes.’ John said, quickly. He tried not to let his heartbeat quicken, because it was already too loud in his ears.

‘Why?’ Sherlock asked, quietly, gently.

‘I… care about you.’ John answered, honestly. He felt tears well up again at the words, but he pushed them down.

‘Thank you.’ Sherlock said, so genuinely touched that it took John by surprise. Not because he didn't think Sherlock couldn't be touched by things like this, but because he didn't expect Sherlock to thank him for well, just doing what he was supposed to. After all, he...

‘I…’ John started to say, before his body shook with sobs and he was unable to do anything but let the tears fall. Within seconds, Sherlock was holding him close, whispering into his hair. ‘It's okay.’

‘It's not okay.’ John answered, not meaning Sherlock - meaning him. Meaning all the darkness that John Watson held inside him, all the hatred, even for himself.

‘No. But it is what it is.’ Sherlock said. John sobbed harder at this, and Sherlock held him tighter. ‘I'm sorry Sherlock, I'm so sorry -’ Sherlock shushed him gently, but it was no good. John hated all the darkness inside him - all the bad, because there wasn't nearly enough good. Everyone he'd met - Mary, Moriarty, even his own father, for God's sake - had done a varying amount of things to fill him with more darkness. From jokes, to punch ups, to statements - John Watson looked at all the darkness inside him as the tears fell and resolved to fight it, now. He was done. It'd made him beat his dearest friend to a bloody pulp, for crying out loud -

‘Sherlock. I'm so sorry for how I treated you at the hospital. For what I did to you. It was unforgivable. I don't expect you to forgive me... ‘ John said, breathy and through tears. He said it into Sherlock chest as he continued to hold him, and he felt the warmth there comforting. ‘I… I didn't feel like I was hurting you - I mean. It's no excuse - but you weren't you in that moment, you were, you were -’ John couldn't finish what he was saying before another wave of tears overtook him. Sherlock rubbed John's back carefully until the tears stopped for a moment, and John was able to continue.

‘You became everything I… hated about myself. The lack of love I had for Mary, in the end, the guilt… the chances I never took… what I… can feel. I'm sorry, Sherlock. I'm sorry. I understand if you never forgive me, but I promise to try and make it up to you, to be better, every day from now on. I'm sorry.’

There was silence for a few seconds, apart from the raspy breathing of the two of them. Finally, John realised that his hair was wet; that Sherlock was crying too. ‘Bloody hell, Sherlock, I didn't -’ John released himself from Sherlock only to flights his arms around the taller man and to hold him, instead. John held him tight, until Sherlock spoke.

‘Of course I forgive you, John.’ 

‘Why?’ John asked, taken aback yet again. ‘I don't deserve it.’

‘I didn't deserve it when you forgave me for letting you believe I was dead for two years… and everything else I did before that. But you forgave me.’ Sherlock said. ‘Both of us are broken, but we're both trying to fix ourselves, and isn't that all that matters? If we try to get better.’ 

John didn't say anything in reply at first, but instead moved to look Sherlock in the eye. The same soft look was back which made John's chest flutter again. ‘I promise you, Sherlock… Never again. I'm going to be a much better man.’

‘You and me both.’ Sherlock whispered with a small smile.

‘Yeah but you don't have that far to go... especially not compared to me.’ John countered, and smiled back.

‘What did you mean… before?’ Sherlock asked quickly. ‘When you talked about missed chances and your feelings…’ He looked genuinely confused.

John breathed, and resolving to never let others’ darkness infect him again, finally let the light in. ‘I'm bisexual, Sherlock. I always have been.’

‘Ah.’ Sherlock said, quietly. ‘There we are then.’ He smiled.

‘So, Mary and Sholto were both… lovers? You loved- love, them?’

‘Yes.’ John said. At this, Sherlock smiled even wider, and John's chest fluttered even more. But there was something else he needed to say first. 

‘And… you.’

‘Me?’ Sherlock asked, blinking.

‘I love you, Sherlock.’ John said, as certain as he ever had been, and as he ever would be.

‘I love you too, John.’ Sherlock said, looking down at him and hesitating before pressing a soft kiss to John's lips. John pulled him closer still and deepened the kiss. It was when they eventually broke apart that they realised that no matter what, they were both so thankful to bo born as to experience that very moment. To able to be together. 

It is what it is. Yes, and isn't that wonderful?


End file.
